N E W  B L O O D
by Salamander B. Hat
Summary: He's not only weak and sickly, but blind as well. In a desperate attempt to prove himself, Whitepaw discovers a little help in the shadiest of places and strives to recreate what the clans of the past destroyed so long ago; the powerful BloodClan.
1. Brothers

**Hey everybody ... or nobody ... whatever. I haven't written a Warrior's fic since the beginning of time, it's been awhile. Mostly because I kinda lost interest in the series. However, I got this idea and I was all, "well why not?" So then I sat down and wrote the prologue, which really didn't take me long at all. I have no idea if anybody will even be interested, but I suppose it's worth a shot. Oh, and if you spot a spelling and or grammar error, please tell me! They make me want to bang my head against the table. Constructive criticism is appreciated and one more thing, this takes place in the clans lake territory in the very far future, m'kay? Get it, got it? Good.  
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** - Rated "T" for violence, blood, etc.**

**- Disclaimer: I own Warriors because the Erin's stole it from me ... what, you don't believe me? Fine, okay, I don't own warriors, just my OC's. :l**

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><p><strong>P R O L O G U E<strong>

"_Brothers"_

"No ... Redfeather, oh StarClan, please no! Not her ... "

Like a heavy, forbidding cloud he felt horror settle in, an invisible coil like that of a snakes long, muscular body wrapping itself around his chest, squeezing him mercilessly, forbidding him to breath the bitter cold air. And just like that time came to a halt, the world around him fading into momentary silence as he beheld the terrible sight before him.

Strewn at his paws, body mangled and twisted, lay a single she-cat, her bright ginger fur clotted in blood, her unmoving broken figure still as stone. Wide as full moons, clouded olive green eyes gazed up at the vibrant, dying sunset, her once beautiful face forever frozen into an expression of utter terror. Flowing freely, blood seeped from a monstrous gash in her delicate throat, pooling around her belly and paws, seeping into the snow laden earth.

Heart beating faster, Sootfall swallowed hard. He couldn't believe it ... he didn't want to. Ears pinned back, he hesitantly reached forward to nose at her cheek only to watch her limp head flop back down lifelessly, never to move again. Gaze watering, the dark tom pressed his forehead into her stiffening side, breathing in the familiar scent, burying his face into the soft, downy pelt.

"Redfeather ... I'm so sorry." He whispered, voice shaky. His throat felt dry, his paws each weighted down with nonexistent lead, too heavy to move.

After a few dragging minutes, Sootfall forced himself to stand, his muzzle parted slightly to take in a deep, rattling breath. Silently he reached a paw forward and as gently as he could, slowly closed both of the she-cats eye lids trying his best to make her appear more at peace. It was just as he'd finished that he heard it, the sound of light paw steps in the snow approaching the scene. Instantly recognizing the scent, Sootfall felt a sense of relief wash over him and with tears flowing freely, glanced upward.

"Whitepath, thank goodness, I-" He started to say, however cut himself short almost immediately; something wasn't right.

Gradually he took in the image of the cat before him. It was a small tom-cat, short, thinned pelt white as the snow and glowing a faint orange in the light of the setting sun. Awkwardly bones void of muscle poked at his skin giving him the strong appearance of a starving creature, his long snaky tail lying still behind him. But it was the fresh crimson smears on his forepaws that caused Sootfall's breath to catch sharply.

Eyes broadening, Sootfall took a few shocked steps backward, "Whitepath, w-what's going on?"

Like ice he felt the newcomers gaze cut into him, sightless, murky eyes pinning him in place, his expression completely unreadable, a well placed stoic mask. For a few tense moments he remained silent, the tip of his tail flickering slowly until at last he decided to speak.

"Sootfall, understand, I had no choice." He answered smoothly.

Blinking, Sootfall shook his head violently. No! No, this couldn't be right? He didn't understand what was going on. It had to be a dream, it just had to be! It didn't make sense, why would Whitepath kill Redfeather? His brother wasn't a murderer! Blood pounding, Sootfall bit his lip. Hesitantly he lifted a paw, expression pleading, "Whitepath ... " He murmured quietly, unable to find the words to say.

"I had to kill her, she knew Sootfall, she would have told everyone. I couldn't have them know, not yet anyway."

Sootfall's stomach lurched and suddenly he felt as though he would be sick, "What are you talking about?" The tom meowed.

Whitepath snorted, "Oh please, don't tell me that you haven't figured it out yet? You know more then you'd like to think."

Immediately the gray warrior felt himself grow cold, almost as if he'd fallen right through the icy lake. Everything pointed to this very moment, it all added up however much he wanted to think otherwise. It was inevitable, all of the murders, the disappearing cats, Whitepath's strange behavior. Whitepath was right, he'd known all along, he just didn't want to admit. And yet it was still so hard to accept, to understand that RiverClan's own medicine cat, his brother since birth, his friend had been causing so much trouble, so much pain within the four clans. The situation rendered Sootfall absolutely speechless. This was a nightmare.

"... why?"

"You want to know why? I'll tell you why." He said, sitting down and curling his tail around his bloody paws. "All my life everyone's looked down on me, viewed me as weak. I was a burden to the clan because I couldn't see, because I couldn't fight or hunt properly. Sure, I could become a medicine cat, but it wasn't enough ... " Here Whitepath paused, his eyes narrowing deviously, "And so I decided I would be more, I would show everyone what I could do. I would unite the clans into one. We would be stronger then ever before, everyone would be equal."

At this point Sootfall could feel a little more sense pouring back into his numbing body, and with it came pain and a growing anger he never thought he'd direct at his only sibling. He wanted to ignore it, pretend that Whitepath hadn't just said what he thought he'd just said, but he couldn't, and he definitely couldn't ignore Redfeather's drying blood on his paws. Instinctively his claws unsheathed and Sootfall jumped to his feet, "Whitepath ... you're ... you're crazy!" He replied, tail lashing.

The white cat's ear twitched calmly, "I see why you're upset, but try to realize how great we could be. You could join me Sootfall, and together we could bring the clans to a new era. We would be respected and feared by all, cat's would come from everywhere just to be a part of my creation."

The fur on the back of Sootfall's neck bristled. It felt as if he were speaking to an entirely different cat, like someone had replaced his brother with a stranger, a cruel, insane stranger. Sootfall's lip curled, "Never! You're a monster, how could you?" He snarled, a few fresh tears dripping down his maw to settle on Redfeather's fast cooling form.

Whitepath let out a long, exasperated sigh, looking slightly irritated, "That's to bad, I thought perhaps ... but no, no I guess _he_ was right." The medicine cat murmured to himself.

Sootfall couldn't help vaguely wondering who _"he" _was, but at that very moment he couldn't have cared less. All that mattered was what Whitepath had done. Sootfall had loved Redfeather, he'd loved her so much. Now she was dead, he'd never get to see her again and it was all his brothers fault. Chest heaving, he let his claws sink into the snow. Part of him wanted to run away, but the other part wanted to lunge at Whitepath, to kill him and make sure for certain he would never hurt anybody again. He wanted to avenge Redfeather's death. What would the clan think?

Teeth clenched, he inched forward, gaze baring down on Whitepath venomously, "I'll ... I'll kill you Whitepath, I'll kill you!" The words sounded so foreign, so wrong, but he had to. He needed to stop this nonsense no matter how much it hurt him. Besides, if Sootfall didn't end it, then somebody else would. His vision was insane, the clans would never allow for such a thing to happen.

For a brief second Whitepath appeared to be genuinely hurt, however as fast it'd come the emotion was gone replaced by a look of indifference. "Sootfall, you're being rash." He retorted in a rather annoyed tone.

From his throat Sootfall replied with a low growl, his head lowering dangerously, "No, you're the one who's not thinking straight!" He snapped back. Never in his life had he ever felt the want to hurt Whitepath so strongly, it almost scared him. "I'm sorry Whitepath." Sootfall added regretfully. Crouching, he was just preparing to jump when suddenly Whitepath made a most peculiar sound, his tail giving one swift lash before lying still. Pausing, Sootfall was about to ask what he was doing when a mere heartbeat later his question was answered.

Like shadows they came, slinking out of the leafless undergrowth from behind Whitepath, their strong scent surrounding him as they encircled the two tom's. Sootfall felt his stomach drop. There were three of them, two tom's and a she-cat, each of their sharp gazes trained directly on him like predatory birds. It was obvious they would do exactly what Whitepath told them, but where they came from he didn't know. Mentally he figured they must have snuck closer when he was talking to Whitepath, he'd been to occupied to notice.

"Now, what were you saying? Something about killing me, correct?" Whitepath meowed, a small smirk turning up the corners of his mouth, pearly eyes glinting mischievously. Sootfall tensed but said nothing.

Huffing, Whitepath bent his head forward to give his chest a few quick licks, "I gave you a chance Sootfall, now I'll ask you one more time," Looking up, he flexed his claws, "Will you join me brother?"

Now aware that he was completely trapped, Sootfall glared at the pale feline. These cat's would tear him apart. He'd never get to tell the clan about Whitepath and he would go on deceiving them until he was ready to make his move. They already knew something terrible was going on around the clans territory, but never would they suspect their own medicine cat.

And yet, however terrible it was, however much he didn't think he was ready to join StarClan, Sootfall knew he could never lower himself to the level Whitepath had fallen. Despite it all, somehow, Sootfall felt pity for Whitepath, or whatever it was he had become, but he wasn't going to help him commit tyranny.

"You are no brother of mine, I refuse."

Whitepath didn't seem surprised in the least bit, "Really, this is unfortunate," He muttered, a hint of sadness to his words. Sitting up straighter, he cleared his throat.

"Very well then ... _BloodClan,_ _kill him_."

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><p><strong>OH NOES!<strong>

**Well that was a cheerful beginning. :D  
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**...**

**If you're confused, that's totally okay because the story is written to lead up to this very spot eventually. -dramatic voice- Then all your questions shall be answered! You know, if I keep writing. And by the way, reviews make the world go round. -shot-**


	2. The Medicine Cat's Apprentice

**...**

**So like, it took me forever to upload this ... I'm sorry to anybody who was expecting it sooner. I started the chapter and was about halfway through before I scrapped the whole thing and rewrote it. This chapters still terrible, and SHORT, but I resisted my urge to rewrite it. So uh, enjoy some nasty writing? Or something like that.  
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**Kitty-chan: **Lul, don't check up to often. I tend to be a slow updater. c:

**GlimmerIcewood: **Yes, I'll admit, the prologue was about ten times better then this chapter. Oh, and I'm pretty sure you're right, it's "mine", I don't know why I put the other one. To lazy to change it, but thank anyway!

**Pokemon Warrior Mew: **Thanks! Personally I think it sucks so far, but still ... if that's what you think. xD

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><p><strong>C H A P T E R 1<strong>

"_The Medicine Cat's Apprentice"_

Ever so slowly the fish swam, moving delicately with the streams gentle current. With great determination amber eyes watched it's every move, the bright afternoon sun shimmering across sleek silver scales. Doing his best to remain completely still, Sootpaw crouched upon a fallen branch suspended over the water's edge, long claws dug deep into the rotting wood for balance, his thick plume of a tail raised. The creature was nearing quickly, the shadowy form gliding toward him unaware of the danger awaiting it's arrival.

Holding his breath, Sootpaw tensed. It was so close now he could almost taste it, the image of a fresh meal dancing in his mind, tormenting his empty stomach. Swallowing, he forced himself to focus upon the target. The wait seemed forever, but at last it was within range!

Quick as lightning a dark paw shot forward, breaking the waters surface and in the seconds that followed, a large wriggling fish was scooped upwards and thrown into a wide arc directly toward shore. Letting out a yowl of triumph the apprentice watched with a smile. However, his grin quickly fell when instead of shore, the fish made contact with a smooth boulder and with a loud smack dropped back into the stream.

"No!"

Desperately he leaped after it, splashing wildly and pawing frantically at the water. But the fish was already gone.

Ears laid back to express his frustration, Sootpaw cursed, his ashy gray pelt dripping as he stood dejectedly in the middle of the stream. Well, so much for that. With an exasperated sigh he turned and trudged back to land.

Once there, Sootpaw paused and took the time to shake the droplets from his fur and each individual foot. Flicking the last loose clinging bit of moisture from his tail tip, he sat. The tom had been hunting since morning suffering in the searing heat of mid summer and all he had to show for it were two measly trouts. True, considering the lack of rain lately very few had been blessed with a good hunt, but still, Sootpaw knew he could do better.

Figuring he was certain to catch nothing with all the commotion he'd caused in his pitiful attempt to recapture his prey, Sootpaw decided he would return to RiverClan with what he had. Easily locating the fresh-kill amongst the pebbles, he lifted both pieces in his jaws and turned to slip into the reeds. With a fast pace he moved, the limp fish swinging by their tails as he padded through the undergrowth.

When at last the camp came into view, Sootpaw stopped to admire the scenery even though he must have seen it already a hundred times. The patch of land the RiverClanners called home sat between the area where the stream split in two, the separate branches snaking off in opposite directions. Despite the lack of rain, here the trees and vegetation still managed to grow lush, the thick green leaves providing natural cover.

Without a second thought Sootpaw strode confidently into the cool shallows, the water swirling calmly around his ankles. Typically it would have been higher, but for that season at least even a kit might manage to cross. Locating the spot where the plants grew thinnest, Sootpaw prepared to push his way through the entrance when suddenly the tall grass shook with the sound of approaching cats. Swiftly the apprentice moved out of the way just as two warriors exited. Whiskers twitching curiously, he gave each a respectful nod and watched them head in the direction he'd come. Guessing they were going to try their own luck at fishing, Sootpaw's gaze followed them until they had gone and with that entered camp.

Inside golden sunlight dappled the sandy clearing beaten hard by generations of paw steps, the trees creating a natural canopy over the entire encampment. From his position Sootpaw could glimpse many of his clan-mates relaxing in the shade of the brambles and ferns that grew around the edges, some sleeping, others eating. To his left a group of kits frolicked outside the nursery thicket, their shrill, excited squeaks reaching his ears as they swatted a mossy ball about. Happy to see all was well, Sootpaw twisted in the opposite direction.

Silently he padded toward the medicine cat den, though not before leaving one fish behind on the fresh-kill pile. With his remaining trout he approached the prickly, oversized thorn-bush that marked the den entryway. Already he could smell the herbs, the strong scent wafting out to tickle and tease his nose.

Resisting the urge to sneeze he was about to take a step forward when a loud shout caught his attention. Ears pricked, he glanced over his shoulder. It was Sparrowpaw, his long striped tail held high as he closed in on Sootpaw.

"Sootpaw, there you are! I thought you'd have been back ages ago."

Sootpaw blinked at his den-mate and close friend, "Why, do you need me?" He replied the best he could through his mouthful. Halting, the handsome brown tabby raised a brow as if Sootpaw had just asked a very stupid question.

"Well yeah, have you forgotten?" He snorted, "Mintfur and Nightclaw promised they'd take us out to the lake today."

All at once it dawned on Sootpaw that the whole thing had completely escaped his mind. Quickly he flashed the tabby an apologetic look, "Oh, right! Just give me a second." He murmured, disappearing around the thorn-bush without waiting for a reply.

Ignoring the stray branches grabbing at his pelt, he came out on the other side where he was met with the sight of a large oak, it's tangled roots hanging freely over the stream. Closer to the trunk was a gaping hole formed by two of the larger roots. Pricking his way down the gentle slope, he poked his head inside. It was dark and cool despite not being very deep.

"Whitepaw?" He called, "Are you in there?" But he received no response. Adjusting his hold on the fish, Sootpaw went inside. Searching the walls, his gaze landed on a pale lump toward the back curled tight upon a nest of moss and grass. Padding closer, he let the fish drop before reaching down to poke the little white cat.

Whitepaw grunted in response, "What do you want?"

"Nothing, I just brought you something to eat, I thought you might be hungry."

For awhile Whitepaw said nothing, but ever so slowly he raised his head, blind, milky eyes fixed on his brother. "Thanks ... I guess." He grumbled, head dropping back to his paws again. Brow furrowing, Sootpaw sighed and maneuvered around the smaller feline until he could see his face. Butting his litter-mates bony shoulder with his forehead, he tried to shove him from his nest.

"Would you stop being so pouty all the time? I'm sure there's _something_ Spottedpoppy wants you to do."

When his brother refused to answer, Sootpaw gave up, "Well I'm going out with Sparrowpaw, Nightclaw and Mintfur, so I'll see you later."

Hearing this, Whitepaw's ears perked up, his head raising, "You're going training?"

Walking toward the exit, Sootpaw answered, "Well, yeah." He muttered already halfway out. Immediately Whitepaw was on his feet bounding forward to catch up with Sootpaw.

"Can I come?" He questioned hopefully. Sootpaw winced, glad Whitepaw couldn't see him.

Though his brother was training to become a medicine cat, it was by no choice of his own and it was obvious he'd have rather trained as a warrior like the rest of the apprentices. Unfortunately Smokestar didn't think the young cat was fit enough for the job, and it was the truth. As far as he knew, Whitepaw was the skimpiest apprentice in all the clans, even compared to WindClan cats. Not to mention the way he could manage to get sick so easily. The RiverClan leader had even been hesitant to let him become a medicine cat; yet even so he thought it would have been a waste to see such a young cat move to the elders den so early.

"I uh ... I think you should just stay here." Sootpaw muttered hurriedly, whisking away before Whitepaw could complain. He felt bad, he really did, however he still wanted what was best for him. And besides, Whitepaw never made it any easier on himself the way he was always going about being so moody.

When he'd reappeared on the other side of the bush, he found Sparrowpaw waiting, his mentor Nightclaw and Sootpaw's own mentor, Mintfur, sitting beside him. Spotting his friend, Sparrowpaw stood.

"You're slower then a turtle, come on!" He meowed, racing toward the camp exit. Wordlessly Nightclaw followed; then again, the big black tom was always pretty silent, though still respected for his strength.

Sootpaw on the other hand waited for Mintfur, greeting her with a respectful nod whilst trying to appear dignified through his impatience to get into the water on such a hot day. The sleek silver warrior smiled lightly, "We better get going then shouldn't we? We wouldn't want Sparrowpaw to waste all his energy before we get there."

Sootpaw purred, "Right." And together mentor and apprentice followed the other two into the forest.

Meanwhile, sitting quietly behind the thorn-bush, the medicine cat apprentice listened attentively to the sound of retreating paw steps. Frowning, he let his claws sink into the earth to express his irritation. It wasn't fair, he should be out there training too! Sootpaw didn't realize how lucky he was, at least everyone else treated him the same, but not Whitepaw. He couldn't see it of course, but Whitepaw knew when others looked at him it was either out of pity, or disgust.

Getting up, Whitepaw walked to the stream side turning his head to look down upon the spot he thought his reflection would be. Was he really that revolting? Silently he imagined himself; a small, scrawny cat with a thin, dirty white pelt and ugly sightless eyes. Teeth clenched, Whitepaw hissed and in a fit of rage slapped the water as hard as he could. No, he wouldn't let everyone boss him around! If he wanted to go to the lake, then he was going to go to the lake and with that decided he scurried up the slope and into the clearing, bolting through the undergrowth before any cat could stop him. He'd just follow their scents, they'd see, he wasn't as worthless as they thought he was.

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><p><strong>Told you ... ick. Next chapter some stuff will happen, promise. (Though I can't promise it'll be written any better.) And by the way, I'm totally making these names up as I go. So they're a bit random, bare with me, I don't want to take the time to write a whole allegiances list cause that would take, you know, EFFORT.<strong>


	3. Dreams of the Past

**Look, this chapter came a billion times faster then the last! Personally I also think it's better as we begin to chip at the tip of the plot. Other then that, I have nothing to say! So, to the reviews!**

**Glowingsoul:** I resisted damaging my head just for you! -shows undamaged head- And sorry about being so hard on my writing. I'm not trying to get attention, I promise. I just happen to have some perfectionist issues ... really annoying issues that need fixing. So I'll stop complaining about my story if it makes you happy! Though, I wouldn't exactly called it perfect ... o3o

**SilverWolf716:** Yep, that was the idea! I find it easier to start my stories like that.

**ZomTatoZom:** ... You're comment ... it's huge. -facepalm- Er, so ignoring the obesity of your review, I find it strange the my story makes you want to drink a chocolate beverage. I should have like, a side effect warning at the beginning or something. "Warning, reading this may give you the urge to eat chocolate!" Unless of course that's just you. Yeah, it's just you. o-o

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><p><strong>C H A P T E R 2<strong>

"_Dreams of the Past"_

Sparkling a brilliant blue beneath the cloudless sky, the lake lapped calmly at the shore, reaching out over the smooth pebbles to tap at Sootpaw's large dark paws. Blinking, the tom lifted his head, amber eyes glimmering as he stared out across the vast body of water to the trees on the ThunderClan side, his view blocked only by the two-legs floating about in their water monsters. As usual they made a fair amount of noise and at first Sparrowpaw had expressed his worry of the loud creatures. Mintfur however easily dismissed his anxiety, assuring the younger cat that the two-legs typically stayed towards the middle of the lake and the half-bridge area.

Now, shuffling like impatient ducklings, the two young toms awaited their mentors instruction. They'd been swimming in the stream many times before, but this was different. It was much deeper, just a mere few tail lengths from shore and the ground seemed to drop away completely, or so they'd been told. Still, they were RiverClan cat's, RiverClan cat's determined to escape the heat.

Crouched calmly on a flat shaded stone, the placid she-cat gazed downwards, "Seeing as it's much harder to catch fish in the lake, we typically don't attempt any hunting in this area. However, it's still important you learn the difference between swimming here and the stream. You must be careful, stray to far from the shore on a windy day and it could be the end of you. Now, watch Nightclaw," Mintfur instructed with a wave of her tail.

Obediently both apprentices turned to watch the black warrior slid into the lake like a sleek otter. Instantly he was dosed everywhere but his head, this of which bobbed up and down as he kicked out strongly with all four legs. Leaving a few ripples in his wake, Nightclaw paddled out for a ways before turning back and climbing back up the bank.

"Be sure you go no farther then I have just done and try to conserve your energy." He informed them, water streaming from his dark pelt.

Eager to give it a go himself, Sparrowpaw jumped to his feet, "Can we try now?"

Purring softly, Minfur nodded, "Of course."

Tails raised, Sparrowpaw and Sootpaw bolted toward the lake like two furry canons, their rushed entrance creating a multitude of waves; the exact opposite of what Nightclaw had done. Snorting, he sat next to Mintfur shaking his head in amusement, "Apprentices ... "

Laughing cheerfully as he was instantly soaked from head to tail, Sootpaw swam deeper, splashing wildly when Sparrowpaw approached. Face dripping, his friend responded with a playful growl, spraying the gray cat in return as he swung his tail. In their moment of excitement, they soon forgot all about the heat making room for their inner kit despite being apprentices.

...

Much farther away, Whitepaw was hunkered down in a clump of long grass, his large ears swiveling back and forth as he listened to Sparrowpaw and his kin have the time of their lives. Personally he was proud of himself for coming so far, he'd tracked the little group all the way from camp without being seen once. He may not have been able to see, but when it came to smell, Whitepaw had the senses of a hound.

Knowing he'd put enough distance between himself and the others to stay well hidden, Whitepaw let himself relax. He could swim in the lake, no problem, he had it in his blood just like the rest of the cats in his clan! Determined, Whitepaw set about to thinking.

Well he couldn't just show himself in front of everyone, they'd just take him back to camp. No, he had to prove he could swim first, then they'd have to let him play. Maybe if he _swam_ over to them, then they'd see just how wrong they were. That would work.

Still well hidden, the skinny cat crept toward the bank, his delicate pads scraping over the sand and rocks. The closer he got, the clearer he could hear the waves, so Whitepaw kept moving until he could feel the water washing over his toes.

Halting, he stared out toward his destination. How hard could it be? It was just water after all. Perhaps he could go all the way out the middle of the lake, as far as he knew, no cat had ever done that before. That would be sure to impress not only his brother, but the whole clan!

Taking a deep breath, Whitepaw lifted his chin and waded into the water.

He was a bit surprised to find how cold it was, the liquid quickly seeping through his sparse, snow white fur. Suppressing a shiver, Whitepaw compelled himself to keep going, plodding forward until he was up to his belly in fishy scented lake water. Picking up the roar of a two-leg monster further outwards, he was forced to dig his claws into the loose mud under paw to keep his balance as waves whooshed past him threatening to knock the apprentice off his feet. But he managed and it wasn't until they'd gone that he continued.

In no time at all the water rose over his back, sloshing beneath his chin and pulling at his tail. Like arms, stringy weeds curled around his legs giving him a very unpleasant feeling and nearly convincing him to turn back.

"_No!"_ He told himself stubbornly, _"I can do this."_

By now he could feel the lake floor leave him and without anything to hold onto, Whitepaw began to paddle fiercely, propelling himself even farther still from the safety of the shore.

Much to his disliking, the waves grew larger, splashing into his nose causing him to inhale water and cough violently. Ears flattening to keep the insides dry, he lifted his chin higher but was unable to keep the water from twisting him here and there as it pulled him ever deeper with ease.

Accidentally sucking in a mouthful, Whitepaw sputtered loudly thinking that it might have been a good idea to go back. However, even if he wanted to, out in the water Whitepaw had completely lost all sense of direction, Panicking, he began paddling down a random course, struggling greatly to keep his head above water. Already he was tiring, growing dizzy from the constant movement.

Suddenly out of nowhere he heard yet another monster whizz past and with a yowl of terror the tom was completely enveloped by dark waves. Pawing frantically, he managed to break through the surface only to give another gurgling shout before yet more waves crashed down upon his head pushing him back under.

Holding his breath, Whitepaw just barely manage to lift his head over the waves once more. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear someone shouting. Not that it really mattered because yet again the lake swallowed him up, this time dragging him to great depths.

Senses numbed, he quickly found he couldn't hold his breath any longer and instinctively opened his maw releasing a torrent of tiny bubbles. Instantly water rushed into his mouth and down his throat choking him and weighing him down.

In one last distraught attempt, Whitepaw tried to pull himself back up again, hind legs beating over and over again. But it was no use, and with one final muffled scream Whitepaw ceased his movements.

For a short while he just let himself sink toward the bottom, his lungs aching terribly and it wasn't long after that the blind apprentice fell unconscious.

Strangely enough, Whitepaw was awakened to the sound of what he thought to be fighting cats. At first it was extremely dull, but after a while it grew louder and louder until the feeble tom's eye lids snapped open. Immediately Whitepaw let out an audible gasp, not because of what he saw, but simply because he _could_ see.

Blinking rapidly, Whitepaw lifted his head. It didn't take him long to figure out he was dreaming, however it didn't stop him from observing his surroundings.

He was laying on what appeared to be a hill, the rim of a hollow. It was early dawn and everything seemed swathed in gray light and shadows. Standing, Whitepaw looked down to see four massive oaks, trees bigger then any he'd ever seen in his life, each of them leafless and covered in leaf-bare ice. It was from down there that the hissing and snarls emitted, noises that sent chills down his spine. Where was he? He'd never been anywhere like this.

Confused, he stood frozen, getting use to the idea of sight until at last curiosity pulled him closer.

Carefully Whitepaw pricked his way down the hollow side, though he didn't have to try hard not to be heard, the sounds of battle were much louder now, so loud in fact that it was all he could hear.

Reaching the bottom, Whitepaw paused, peering through the undergrowth where he could see shapes moving about wildly. So strong did the scent of blood and fear linger in the air that Whitepaw had to fight the urge to cover his nose.

Whiskers twitching, he was about to poke his head through the brambles when out of nowhere something burst through the bushes next to him. Leaping out of the way just in time, Whitepaw watched, heart pounding as a shrieking cat careened away leaving droplets of crimson in his wake. Unsure what he would see, Whitepaw stuck his head through the gape in the branches made by the retreating feline. Instantly his eyes widened significantly.

The entire clearing was filled with angry, battling cats, splatters of blood and claws flashing right in front of him. Everywhere he looked the vicious creatures tore at each other, clumps of fur littering the snow. Unsurprisingly he recognized nobody. And yet at the same time they all smelt familiar.

Soon it hit him; these were clan cat's! At least about half of them anyway.

Gaping, Whitepaw observed everything in amazement. Was this the future ... or perhaps the past? Not able to make any sense about what was going on around him, his eyes flickered left and right. He was watching nervously as a clan cat fell at the paws of one of the enemy when for whatever reason his attention was drawn to the center of the clearing where two cats were fighting near a large stone.

His gaze was turned just in time to see a very small black tom escape the grasp of the other, a ThunderClanner with a brilliant, flame colored coat that stuck out above the rest. Oddly, the black cat appeared to have a collar around his neck.

Without blinking Whitepaw looked on in awe as the black cat reared, one white paw raised with the longest, sharpest claws ever imaginable. With alarming force he managed to strike the ginger cat over the head sending him straight to the ground. Weakly the ginger cat tried to rise again, but failed, slumping back down again and going completely still.

He was dead.

Unsure what to think, Whitepaw could only stare at the motionless body, the green eyes paling, staring blankly at the sky. Wondering what it was he had just witnessed and why it felt so important, Whitepaw searched the clearing for the black cat only to hold back a squeak of surprise when he realized the stranger was staring directly at him, hardened, icy blue eyes locked upon his own.

"Whitepaw."

Whitepaw stiffened, was this cat trying to talk to him? But no, no his mouth hadn't even twitched, and even if he had he was much to far away to hear properly. Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling that it was this black cat with the collar and frightening claws that was trying to get his attention.

Shaking his head, Whitepaw looked up again, but the black cat had already stopped staring at him and was instead scuffling with a white warrior. For awhile he watched the two, unable to look away. That was until the black cat turned his head. Naturally Whitepaw too turned his head surprised to see that the ginger cat was standing again, very much alive. However, Whitepaw was not nearly as shocked as the black cat (for using simple logic he was able to determine he was a leader, therefore with more lives) who gawked at the living creature freely.

Seconds later the two were fighting again, this time with even more ferocity. To the apprentice it seemed he was watching forever, both matched evenly skill wise. Then at last the ThunderClanner had the upper hand and using a brief mistake to his advantage, grasped the black cat's throat between his jaws. Right then Whitepaw knew that it was over and right before his eyes he viewed the vicious fighters movements grow weaker and weaker until he was dead.

If he could have, Whitepaw would have stayed to watch the rest, but to his dismay, everything around him appeared to be growing fainter, the sounds distancing.

"No wait!" He called out to nothing in particular. But already his vision was dimming and just like before Whitepaw was thrown into blackness.

...

When he awoke for the second time, it was much slower, and unfortunately this time around he knew he was no longer dreaming for he'd gone back to being blind again.

Groaning, Whitepaw breathed deeply, relieved to feel fresh air flowing into his lungs. Somehow he was alive, though his throat and legs still ached. Recognizing the sharp, tangy scent of herbs, he realized he must have been in the medicine cat's den, the soft mossy material that made up his nest beneath him.

Chest heaving, Whitepaw's tail tip twitched and sluggishly he began to move.

"You're awake!"

From the other side of the den he heard the sound of paw steps, the familiar scent of his brother reaching his nose.

Affectionately Sootpaw nuzzled his only brother before pulling away, "Are you feeling okay?" He pressed urgently.

"I'm fine." Whitepaw replied shortly. He was so concentrated on the vivid dream he'd had that he'd almost completely forgotten about nearly drowning. Next to him Sootpaw crouched with worried eyes.

"Mintfur heard your shouting and if Nightclaw hadn't saved you, well ... " The tom trailed off awkwardly, distracted by the appearance of Spottedpoppy.

"Ah, your conscious, thank StarClan!" His elderly mentor purred. Approaching her apprentice, the gray spotted medicine cat dropped a plump water vole near the edge of his nest looking quite relieved.

"Here, you'll need to eat to regain your strength."

Sighing, Whitepaw resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if he didn't know, he did spend most of his time around the old coot. Instead he just settled for a brief nod, though he had no intention of eating.

Smiling, Spottedpoppy went to gather something from the opposite end of the den, "I'll just leave you two alone then, Ragear has been complaining of a stomach ache, it's best I go tend to him." She meowed briskly.

Waiting until she'd gone, Whitepaw faced Sootpaw trying to contain his excitement. He couldn't wait to tell his brother all about his dream. However just as he was about to open his mouth, Sootpaw cut him off.

"What did you think you were doing anyway? You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"Yeah but-"

"I told you to stay here!"

"I know but-"

"Why don't you ever listen!"

Irritated, Whitepaw glared at his litter mate, lip curled, "You know, you sound just like mother." He snapped. Snorting, Sootpaw growled.

"Oh yeah? Good! Ever since she died, I've been the one trying to keep you from doing something stupid."

Quickly angering, Whitepaw struggled to his paws, tail lashing as he faced his stronger sibling, "I said I wanted to come swimming!" He protested loudly. He could literally feel Sootpaw's disappointment coming off in waves. It'd been a while since he remembered Sootpaw being angry.

"Well you know what Whitepaw? You _can't_ swim, and you'll _never_ swim. Why can't you get that through your thick head? If you tried as hard at everything else as you did being a nuisance then maybe you'd actually accomplish something!"

Moments afterwards Sootpaw seemed to realize what he'd said as Whitepaw heard a breath of realization leave his mouth. But by then it was already to late. Huffing loudly, Whitepaw turned and stomped toward the exit, Sootpaw trailing after him.

"Er, no, wait Whitepaw! I worded that wrong!"

Spitting, the white cat whipped around until he was standing nose to nose with Sootpaw, who of course stood taller; not that it mattered to him.

"No, no you're right. I _can't_ do anything."

"That's ... that's not what I said!" The gray apprentice objected. But Whitepaw didn't care.

Seething, he padded outside, the dying sunlight falling across his pelt. From behind he heard Sootpaw hurry to catch up skidding to a halt and baring his path.

"Whitepaw, just listen-"

"Get away from me!" Whitepaw shrieked, "I don't want to talk to you!"

Then without waiting to hear anymore, Whitepaw shoved past his brother, racing away, not in the direction of camp, but the other way, breaking past a thin wall of reeds and splashing out into the stream. Ignoring Sootpaw's yells, he plowed through the water, scrambling up onto the opposite bank and charging blindly into the forest.

Speeding up, Whitepaw ran and ran, branches scratching his face, sharp stones stabbing at his pads. He didn't care, he just wanted to get away from Sootpaw, from everybody in the clan. At one point he tripped, falling heavily on his face and getting a mouthful of soil. Spitting it out, he got back up again and kept going.

It wasn't until he found himself padding through mud that he slackened. Some how he'd managed to run all the way to the marsh.

Breathing heavily, Whitepaw trudged through the dirty water until he discovered a small, sandy spot raised above the muck. Deciding he would stop there, he dropped to the ground curling up in a puny, grimy ball of fur exhausted from both the near drowning experience and his retreat from camp.

He didn't want to think about Sootpaw, so instead he focused upon his dream and the little black cat, the only one who had seemed to be able to see him. Who was he? And why was everybody fighting? Unfortunately he could answer neither of these questions. As far as he knew, the whole thing could have just been a figment of his imagination.

Disheartened and hurt, Whitepaw curled himself tighter, tail tip resting over the top of his face. That night he fell asleep alone listening to the sound of crickets and frogs, wondering why it was he had to be so different from everybody else.

* * *

><p><strong>-sniffle- Poor little Whitepaw. :c<strong>

**I don't really think it'll take that long to guess what his dream was all about. I thought it was quite obvious ... I don't know if I got all the details right, I had to flip through the last book to get everything accurate ... it was really dusty. :l**


End file.
